


The She-wolves of Winterfell

by whytewoolf



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-05 23:05:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15181334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whytewoolf/pseuds/whytewoolf
Summary: The Stark Sisters want to meet the Dragon Queen in whom their brother has put so much faith.And Dany wants to meet the girls she hopes to be her sisters one day.Current chapter: Sansa and Dany talk about trauma they've both endured. Warning: brief discussion of sexual assault.





	1. The She-wolves of Winterfell

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction! I'd appreciate any feedback! Thank you!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Stark Sisters want to meet the Dragon Queen in whom their brother has put so much faith.
> 
> And Dany wants to meet the girls she hopes to be her sisters one day.

Dany sat alone by the window of her room in Winterfell. They had arrived earlier that day and, while her reception from the Northern Lords had been chilly, Winterfell itself welcomed her. It felt almost like home. She knows the reason for that is largely the man for whom she is waiting to return.

Jon promised to show her all of Winterfell. All his favorite spots as a boy. He promised to bring her to the Godswood and to the hot springs he’d described on their journey North. She had to wait though as he’d gone to speak with his brother. Lord Bran had insisted upon a private audience with Jon before they had had a moment to settle in. Jon had only led her to her room, and kissed her quickly while no one was looking, before rushing off to speak with his brother. 

Dany’s thoughts of Jon were interrupted by a knock on her door.

“Come in,” she called and turned to see Jon’s sisters, Lady Sansa and Arya, entering the room. 

“Your Grace, we wanted to come and meet you properly. Our brother was only able to introduce us briefly before he dashed off,” Lady Sansa began. She spoke like a proper lady, her words kind and warm, but her blue eyes were like chips of ice. She doesn’t trust me, Dany thought. That’s only fair. She remembered Jon’s words. They’ll come to see you for what you are. Dany wanted more than anything for these women, who meant so much to Jon, to know her. Truly know her. Perhaps like family, she thought shyly.

Arya’s distrust was not so well disguised. “Yes, our brother has bent the knee and we’d like to know why. He says you deserve it. That you are the queen he’s chosen, but we don’t know you. And our brother has always seen the best in people who often don’t deserve it,” Arya spoke firmly, gliding across the room like a shadow and standing beside the window, facing Dany in her seat.

“Arya!” Sansa rushed in behind her, closing the door hurriedly. She sent her sister a warning glare and gestured for the seat opposite Dany, near where Arya was standing. Dany waved her hand towards the seat and Sansa sat with a grateful nod.

“What Arya is trying to say is that Jon is the best of us, Your Grace. He always has been,” Sansa began in her dignified tone. “I was not kind to him growing up. You see, my lady mother, well, she was awful to Jon.” Here, she began to rush. It appeared as though she’d been waiting to make this confession for a long time. “I love and miss her so, but she was. She never failed to make certain that Jon knew his place. She wouldn’t let him sit with us at meals. Called him bastard to his face. She even had our Septa teach us that bastards were evil and covetous. That they sought to usurp their trueborn siblings.” Dany could see the tears in her eyes as she spoke. Arya’s fists were clenched at her sides. 

Sansa continued, “But mother’s poison didn’t infect any of my siblings. Arya, Bran…Robb and Rickon. They always loved Jon. Treated him like their trueborn sibling.” Sansa paused to wipe the tears from her eyes. She looked angry now. “Not me though. I wanted to be a proper Southern lady. I wouldn’t associate with Jon. He was below me. I’d call him my half-brother. My father’s bastard. I never had a kind word to say.” Her voice cracked with emotion.

“It was only when I went South and saw how horrid a prince could be that I realized what a fool I’d been. That the station of one’s birth did little to impact their character. It was too late though. Jon was lost to me, or so I thought.” She had a faraway look in her eyes now. “I used to fantasize about him coming to rescue me from the Red Keep. Even before we lost Robb, it was Jon I’d imagine coming down from Castle Black and taking me home.”

She smiled. “He did eventually. Even if it wasn’t the way I’d imagined. When I escaped from Ramsey Bolton, I went to Castle Black. I went to find Jon. I thought he was the only family I had left, but I was terrified. I’d been so awful to him. He had every right to bar the castle doors and deny me entry. But that’s not Jon. He welcomed me with open arms. I’ve never been so happy to see anyone.”

“And then he won back the North. He didn’t do it for a crown. He didn’t do it for glory or power or any of that. He did it to give his sister back her home.” She paused again and looked Dany square in the eyes for the first time. “He’s the best of us, Your Grace, and he trusts you. So I will too.” Sansa’s eyes hardened before she spoke. “But if you do anything to betray his trust, dragons or no dragons, you’ll regret it.”

Arya looked impressed. Dany doubted she’d expected her lady sister to raise her hackles like that. Dany did not mind the venom in her voice. She understood the sentiment. She herself would set her dragons upon anyone who dared harm Jon. 

Dany reached out and took Sansa’s hand where it rested on the table. Cradling it gently, she spoke, “One night on our journey North I asked Jon about his family. What it was like to grow up in Winterfell.” She smiled, “Your brother can be quite brooding, I’m sure you know, but his face lit up when he spoke of you. For hours he talked about his beloved siblings. All of you. Not just Robb or Arya. Bran or Rickon. But you as well, my lady. He loves you quite dearly and obviously does not harbor any ill will for the treatment he faced from you as a child. In fact, I doubt he has ever held it against you. He even spoke kindly about your lady mother. What an admirable woman she was. How he’d never seen a mother love her children so fiercely.”

“It was only when I asked Theon Greyjoy about growing up with Jon and Lord Tyrion about his time in Winterfell that I heard a hint of Jon’s mistreatment. That perhaps being the Bastard of Winterfell wasn’t as idyllic as Jon remembers it now. He truly is the best of us. All of us. He continues to see the good in people despite mistakes they’ve made or how they’ve hurt him. I only hope to live up to whatever it is he sees in me,” She finished, releasing Sansa’s hand. It was only when she stopped talking that she realized she may have said too much.

“What do you know of Theon Greyjoy’s relationship with his siblings?” Arya asked with narrowed eyes.

“Hmm, oh, I know he wishes to rescue his sister Yara, as she has done for him,” Dany replied distractedly. 

“Yes, but growing up before he came to Winterfell. Do you know what it was like?” Arya pressed. 

“No, I do not.” Arya nodded.

“How about Lord Varys? Have you spoken late into the night with him about his childhood home? Asked Lord Tyrion about the Spider's home life?” Dany understood what Arya was getting at.

“No, I have not.”

“Arya...” Sansa began tentatively, clearly picking up on Arya’s not-so-subtle meaning. 

“I am only trying to understand her relationship with our brother, Sansa.” Arya turned back to Dany. “It does not appear that you’ve gone to any lengths to know intimate personal details of the lives of any of your other allies. So my question is this: after this war is won, after we’ve defeated the Dead and taken the Iron Throne from Cersei, where do you see my brother?” Arya asked unblinkingly. Dany looked right back at her. She knew that Jon’s fiercest protector was testing her. Seeing if she was worthy. Seeing if she was honest. She knew the right things to say to Arya, but this wasn’t a Northern Lord questioning her relationship with the King in the North. This was Jon’s sister and she needed to be true. 

“I do not wish your brother to serve as my Warden of the North,” Dany began. She turned to Sansa. “In fact, Lady Sansa, it is my wish that you fill that role.” Sansa sat upright in her chair. “Jon has told me that you’ve run the North well in his absence and Lord Tyrion speaks highly of your political acumen.” 

“And where is our brother?” Arya interrupted. Dany pulled her eyes from Sansa’s to once again meet Arya’s. Love comes in at the eyes.

“When we win our wars, I wish to make your brother the king. Not just of the North, but of all seven kingdoms. There is no one better suited to lead the realm.” Arya continued to stare at Dany unwaveringly. Dany carried on, “I wish to make him my king. And if he’ll have me, my husband.” Dany paused and looked at her hands in her lap. For the first time she felt not like a queen, but like the young woman she was underneath it all. The young woman she hardly ever got to be. “I would have liked to have had these discussions with him before his sisters, but you should know my intentions. This would not be a political alliance. I love him. I want him to be by my side. I want him to be where ever I am.” She lifted her head and looked Arya in the eyes once again. Arya was smiling for the first time since she’d entered the room. 

They sat in silence following her confession. Arya and Dany locked in a staring contest. A smile stretched across Arya’s face. A soft one lingered on Sansa’s lips as well. Finally, shockingly, Arya broke into wild laughter. Dany pulled back, dumbfounded. Sansa looked puzzled by her sister’s reaction as well.

“I’m sorry I’m laughing,” Arya forced out in between fits of laughter. “It’s just…I don’t think Jon had ever talked to a girl before we all left Winterfell and now he’s going to marry the Dragon Queen. If Robb were here to see this!” She continued laughing. Sansa stared at her for a beat and then joined in. Dany tentatively smiled. She still wasn’t sure what to make of the strange young girl’s reaction, but she hadn’t pulled out her blade so Dany was optimistic. 

The Stark sisters eventually stopped laughing. Arya wiped tears of mirth from her eyes and spoke again, “Jon’s always been my favorite sibling. And now I don’t know how anyone will ever compete. He’s given me the Dragon Queen as a good-sister!” Arya was child-like in her joy. “Will you let me meet your dragons? Viseyna was my hero growing up. They say you ride your dragon into battle just like her. Gods, I'd love to ride a dragon.” Arya continued firing off questions about her dragons and Dany tried to keep up. The girl was giddy now. Gone was the fierce assassin and in her place was the young girl who worshiped Targaryen warrior queens as a child. 

Sansa too had unthawed. While she was no longer the naïve girl who fawned over princes and dreamt of being a queen, she could still delight in her brother living such a fairytale. She reached across the table to grab Dany’s hand. “You’ll have to let make your wedding dress! I’ve gotten quite good. I made Jon’s cloak, you know?” Dany nodded, still overwhelmed by the shift in the room's atmosphere.

The girls before her no longer seemed like dangerous wolves. But like family, she thought. Like sisters.


	2. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a week since Bran revealed Jon's parentage. Dany's friendship with the Stark sisters is all that's kept her upright while Jon deals with the truth. Another revelation brings them all together.

Winterfell no longer feels like home. It had been seven days since Bran revealed the truth of Jon’s parentage. Seven days since Jon had looked her in the eyes. She knew that he needed time. That his entire world had been turned upside down. Eddard Stark was the bedrock of Jon’s life. Every choice he made, he thought about what his father would have done. Every action he took was to bring honor to the Stark name. For he may not have it himself, but he wanted people to say that Ned Stark fathered four sons not three. And now, Ned Stark wasn’t his father anymore. Dany would argue that point with him. Arya already had. “Rhaegar Targaryen may have sired you, Jon, but Ned Stark raised you,” she’d shouted at the impenetrable mask he wore. “He was your father as much as he was mine. And you are my brother as much as Bran is.” But no matter what anyone said, Jon was unreachable.

Selfishly, she worried about the “them” of the revelation. He was her nephew. Their shared blood only brought her joy. She was not alone anymore. She was not the last Targaryen. But she feared Jon—raised a Stark—would not feel the same way. Sansa had tried to quell her worries. “Starks have married uncle to niece before. Our grandparents were cousins. It is not so close a relation that he will not be able to overcome it,” she’d whispered as she rocked a quietly crying Dany.

Jon himself had said little to her. “I need time,” he’d choked out brokenly when she’d approached him after Bran had told their small councils, including Sansa and Arya, the news he’d shared with Jon earlier that day. He turned and all but ran from her and had managed to avoid her ever since. 

In those seven days, she’d only managed to retain her sanity due to the ministrations of Sansa and Arya. She wasn’t sure how she won their loyalty so quickly, but once earned it was steadfast. “You’re part of the pack,” Arya affirmed when Dany asked. “Jon’s being stupid, but he’ll get his head out and then you’ll be my good-sister. I won’t leave you alone here just because Jon’s too busy brooding.” True to her word, she hadn’t left Dany alone. Dany was in the company of either Sansa or Arya everywhere she went in Winterfell. This had a twofold purpose. The girls distracted her from worrying about Jon and it showed the Northern Lords that Dany was under the protection of the Starks. Jon could hardly be thought of as friendly towards her as he’d been avoiding even eye contact for a week, but it was clear to the Lords that the she-wolves of Winterfell got on well with the Dragon Queen, trusted her, maybe even liked her. 

Lord Tyrion was ecstatic at the display. “Sansa Stark knows what she’s doing,” he’d said with a proud smile as they’d discussed strategy over dinner one night. “The love of the Stark girls will win you the love of the Northern Lords. With Jon Snow, the assumption was always going to be that you seduced him into bending the knee”—she cut him off with a glare—“which I know is not the case, you know what I mean. But his sisters are another matter entirely. This will help us while Jon—or is it Aegon now?”—another glare—“has his identity crisis.” Dany had found Tyrion exhausting these past seven days. 

Even now as she walked down the hallway between Tyrion and Sansa, she wanted to toss him bodily from her sight. “And we should just throw him on Rhaegal,” he carried on. “Nothing will make you accept your Targaryen blood quite like a ride on a dragon.”

Sansa snorted with amusement. “I’d like to see you try and throw Jon anywhere, Tyrion.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be me that would throw him,” Tyrion conceded with a smirk.

“Funny,” Dany joined in. “I was just fantasizing about giving you a toss, Tyrion.” All three laughed. It was while laughing that Dany felt the room sway. She braced herself against Sansa’s shoulder.

“Are you alright, Daenerys?” Sansa asked with concern etched across her features.

“Yes, of course,” Dany muttered. “I guess it’s just been awhile since I’ve laughed. My body’s not used to it.” She smiled weakly. It did little to reassure Sansa. The truth was Dany hadn’t felt right for days. The stress of Jon’s distance had sapped her of her appetite and her strength, but these were weaknesses she was loath to admit.

Tyrion was not convinced either. “You’ve barely eaten in days, Your Grace,” he admonished. “A hunger strike will not get him to wrap his mind around these revelations any faster.”

She turned to Tyrion ready to breath fire when suddenly the room spun and went dark. 

When she opened her eyes, Samwell Tarly’s face was inches from hers. “Oh hello, Your Grace, you gave us quite a scare,” he said with his disarming kindness. 

“What happened?” She asked, looking around the room. Sansa stood beside Sam next to the bed and Tyrion was on the opposite side. Strangely, both were smiling. “The last thing I remember is you making a rude comment, Tyrion, and then it all went black.”

“You fainted, Daenerys,” Sansa said quietly, a serene smile still playing on her lips.

“Yes, but no need to worry. It’s quite common in ladies at this stage. You just aren’t eating enough. But I expect nothing’s sitting right, is it?” Sam chuckled uncomfortably.

“At this stage of what, Lord Tarly?” Dany questioned warily.

It was Tyrion who answered. “Pregnancy, Your Grace,” he stated. “Loss of appetite, lack of strength, fainting spells. They’re all common at this stage of pregnancy.”

Dany’s response was immediate. “Get out.”

“Your Grace?” Sam questioned.

Dany didn’t remove her eyes from Tyrion. “Don’t tell me such cruel lies, Tyrion. Get out.”

Sansa grabbed her hand. “He’s not lying, Daenerys,” she said gently. “Sam did the tests while you were passed out. It’s early, but you’re about three moon turns along.” Three moon turns. They’d been on the boat North three moons ago.

Tears flooded Dany’s eyes. “It can’t be true. I can’t have children.”

“I was never sure I believed what that witch told you. It appears Jon Snow wasn’t either,” Tyrion spoke. At this Dany began to cry in earnest. “I’m sorry, Your Grace. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Tyrion was mortified. 

“I’ll…I’ll go get you something to eat, Your Grace,” Sam spoke awkwardly, excusing himself as quickly as possible.

Dany’s sobbing only increased. Tyrion and Sansa looked at each other panicked from across the bed. 

“Daenerys, isn’t this happy news?” Sansa tried again. “You’re with child. It’s a miracle. One you told me you wanted desperately.”

It took several minutes, but Dany was finally able to control herself. “Yes,” she started. “Jon has given me my miracle and now he can’t even look at me.” Her eyes welled up again. “He doesn’t want me anymore. He can’t love me knowing I’m his aunt. But I know Jon. When he finds out about the baby, he’ll marry me anyway. He swore he’d never father a bastard. I’ve trapped him. Oh, he’ll hate me for this, for taking away his choice.” 

Tyrion grabbed her other hand. “You’ve done nothing of the sort. You must trust Jon. He just needs time. I have no doubt that he’ll come out of the other side of this being just as hopelessly in love with you as he was before. You’ll tell him then and he’ll be overjoyed.” Sansa nodded along.

“I’d figure out what you’re going to tell him now because he’s on his way,” Arya spoke from the doorway. All three jumped. No one had heard her enter. Of course, no one ever does. “He overheard Sam telling one of the kitchen maids to bring food to your room as you’d fainted and weren’t feeling well. He dropped a stack of letters and sprinted out of the room. He’s not as fast as me nor does he know the secret passageways as well as I do though so I beat him.” A beat. “I’m going to be an aunt, yeah?” Arya smiled. “A dragon and a wolf. Ha, like Jon. Can I teach her how to use a sword?”

Dany smiled at the thought before realizing what Arya had said. “Oh gods, what I am going to say? This will be the first conversation we’ve had in a week. ‘Hello nephew, I’ve got some more lifechanging news to drop in your lap,’” Dany laughed almost hysterically. 

“That sounds alright, though I wouldn’t call him nephew. Appears to be a sore spot,” Arya deadpanned. Sansa shot her a glare.

“Just tell him it’s the stress. That you just need something to eat and some rest. It’s not really a lie,” Sansa offered more helpfully. 

Jon’s pounding footsteps could now be heard in the hallway outside. He skidded into the room, slightly out of breath. He did not appear to expect the room to be so full. A slight blush rose on his cheeks.

“I…uh…Sam told me you were ill. I wanted to check on you.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he spoke. Dany’s heart raced at the sight of him.

“Sam told you, yeah? When did you have time to change out of that kitchen dress?” Arya mocked.

Jon turned to her with a glare, “Alright, I overheard him telling a kitchen maid, but I should know, shouldn’t I? I’m her…” Jon seemed to catch himself. “I’m her host.” 

Arya laughed, “Some host you are. So your guests have to pass out before you’ll be in the same room as them?” Jon had the good sense to look properly shamed. Dany wasn’t interested in making him feel any guiltier than she was sure he already did. 

“That’s enough, Arya,” she said quietly. She turned to Jon. “I’m fine, Jon. I just haven’t been eating well, but it looks like Sam is going to rectify that.” She tried at a bit a humor. Jon didn’t smile. 

He looked around the room. “Would you all mind giving us a minute? I’d like to speak to the Queen alone,” he asked. Sansa and Tyrion immediately dropped Dany’s hands and walked towards the door. Arya lingered.

“If you make her cry, I’ll stick you with the pointy end, Jon Snow,” she threatened without heat. Jon closed his eyes as if in pain and nodded at her. Arya left, closing the door behind her.

“My own sister thinks I intend to hurt you,” he spoke, meeting Dany’s eyes for the first time in a week. He looked lost. “You know that’s not my intention, don’t you?” He almost begged her. 

Dany had to look away. She wanted him to look at her, to speak with her, more than anything else for the last week and now she couldn’t bear to be in the same room as him. “I know, Jon,” she whispered.

“You’ve already been crying though,” he stated. “A fainting spell wouldn’t make you cry. What’s really going on? Are you hurt?” His concern pierced her like a knife and she began to cry again. Jon’s eyes widened in fear and he raced to her bedside. He sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed her hand. “Dany, I’m so sorry. Please don’t cry. Gods, I’ve been such a fool.”

Dany cut him off, “I know you need time, Jon. But I need to know right now. At the end of this tunnel you’re in, what do you see? Will taking time make you realize our shared blood changes nothing?” Quietly, “Will you still love me? Or is it too much? I need to know. I can’t bear not knowing any longer. I’ll give you time if you wish, but please let me know what I’m waiting for.” Dany wasn’t sure Jon could even understand her through her tears. 

He cradled her face between his hands and gently wiped the tears from her eyes. She leaned into his touch. They lingered like that for what felt like an eternity until he spoke softly, “I’ve been trying to figure out who I am these last few days. Before it was simple. I was Ned Stark’s bastard son. Tyrion once told me to wear the title as armor and it could never be used against me. I’d gotten quite good at it. But all that’s changed now. I’m a trueborn son. A prince. I suppose a king. The son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark.” He spoke as if the words were foreign. He paused and looked away from her. 

“I used to sit beside Lyanna’s statute in the crypts when I was hiding from Lady Stark. I always felt safe there. Never knew why.” He smiled softly and shook himself out of the memory. “Everything I thought I knew, everything I’d been told, that the realm had been told, about Rhaegar and Lyanna was a lie. It’s all been so difficult to understand. I’m trying though.” 

He took his hands from her face and placed them in his lap. She felt colder without his touch. He rang his hands nervously. “I thought if I couldn’t figure out who I was, I could try and determine who other people were to me now. That that would help. Arya was right about a lot of it. Ned Stark is still who I think of when I think of my father. He taught me how to be a man. He raised me as his own. But I’d like to know who Rhaegar and Lyanna were. I like to know who my parents were.” He paused again. “Arya, Sansa, and Bran…Robb and Rickon…they’ll never be my cousins. They are my siblings as truly as Aegon and Rhaenys who I lost" He took a beat. Gathering his thoughts. "I can be both. I can be a Stark and a Targaryen. I don’t have to choose.” He looked as if he was remembering something and smiled softly to himself. He shook his head. “When I thought on it, it was quite easy to determine who all these people were in light of whoever I am now. But it was easiest, Dany, to know who you are to me.” 

He scooted closer to her on the bed and grabbed her hand with both of his own. “I can’t let you think for another minute that anything could make me love you any less. You may be my aunt by blood, but you are the woman I love. Ever since I’ve met you, you’ve held that place in my heart. You’re the woman I love, my queen, and, if the gods be good, one day you’ll be my wife.”

Dany felt like her heart would burst. “None of it matters beyond that, Dany. And I’ve been so stupid to let you think it does. Whoever I am. Jon Snow. Jon Stark. Aegon Targaryen. The one thing all those men have in common is their love for you. I hope I’m not too late,” he finished lamely. His grip on her hand was almost painful. She didn’t speak at first, looking deeply into his eyes. Then she slipped her hand from his and grabbed them with both of hers.

“Jon Snow,” she spoke softly, reverently. “That’s who you are. The man I love, my king, my husband.” She paused and brought his hands to her stomach. “The father of my child.” 

Jon was smiling tenderly at her. It took a minute for her words to reach him. When they did, his smile grew wider and tears filled his eyes. “Truly?” He asked, his voice small and childlike. She nodded, tears filling her eyes as well. He laughed with joy and leapt at her, peppering kisses across her face—her cheeks, her forehead, her eyes—before kissing her deeply. She pulled him closer to her, bringing them both horizontal on the bed. She kissed him like she never had before, giving him everything. After several moments, he broke away with a gasp. Resting his forehead on hers, they looked into each other’s eyes once again. She saw only love reflected back. Just as Jon leaned in to kiss her once again, a loud knock sounded on the door.

“Oy,” Arya shouted. “It’s been a couple of minutes since anyone’s spoken. Let us back in. I think you two have done entirely enough of that for the time being.” Jon groaned. Dany laughed and pushed him off of her. They shared another smile before Dany called out. “Alright, come in.”

The door opened revealing Sansa and Arya. At least Tyrion had decided to give them a bit of privacy. “Can we help you?” Jon asked failing to hide a grin. Sansa lifted her eyebrows at his cheek. As though he hadn’t just spent the last week in one of his most sullen moods of all time. 

“Yes, as a matter of fact you can,” the Lady of Winterfell spoke. “I’d like to do something to rally our people before the coming wars. A celebration of sorts. Give them something to fight for.” She was smiling now. “Can you two think of an occasion that would suffice?”

Jon opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by Arya. “And you can help me by realizing that we’re in my room at the moment.” Dany looked around. She hadn’t even noticed which room they’d brought her into after she fainted. “And I’d greatly appreciate it if my brother didn’t defile my bed.”

Sansa and Dany laughed. Jon turned bright red and leapt away from the bed. 

“Yes,” Dany started. “I think we can accommodate all that.” She turned to Jon and smiled. He smiled back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It wasn't a one-shot after all! Thanks for all the kind words <3


	3. Dragons and Direwolves and Bears, Oh My

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dany meets the Lady of Bear Island.

Sometimes Winterfell felt like a prison. “He sent me over here to make sure you ate your bacon,” Arya shrugged as she flopped gracelessly into the chair beside Dany. Dany looked up and met Jon’s eye across the great hall. He waved at her with a smirk on his face before turning back to Ser Davos as they discussed fortifications for Winterfell. “I think he’s just mad that you outsmarted him yesterday,” Arya continued, taking a piece of Dany’s bacon and popping it in her mouth. “Inspired move. Kissing him stupid while feeding all the bacon to Ghost under the table.”

“I just don’t want the damn bacon. It’s too salty,” Dany grumbled. Ever since her pregnancy had been revealed to their small councils it appeared everyone was conspiring with Jon to keep her well-fed. _I won’t have you passing out on me again, my love_ , Jon had said in an infuriatingly sweet voice when she’d complained.

“I don’t know what you’re on about. The bacon’s great,” Arya said with her mouth full. It was only then that she looked down and saw that Arya had finished all the bacon. “You’re welcome. I couldn’t let Ghost have all the fun.”

“You are my favorite sister,” Dany crooned. “I think I’ll take you for a ride on dragon-back today. That is, if Jon gives us his permission,” she rolled her eyes.

“Fuck that,” Arya waved her off. “King or not, Jon’s never told me what to do. And you’re a pregnant queen not a piece of glass. He does understand you plan to ride into war on the back of a dragon, likely while quite pregnant, does he not?” 

“I know, I know. Don’t worry. Jon won’t say a word. He knows better. He’ll just get this horrible worried look in his eyes that makes me weak.”

“You two are disgusting, you know that?” Arya replied. “I was giving you a pass with the wedding coming up and the whole pregnancy thing, but if I walk in on you with your tongue that far down my brother’s throat one more time, I swear I’ll lose it.”

“Well then, stop walking into rooms without knocking!” Dany laughed.

“It was the kitchen, you animal.”

Dany’s reply was quick. “I’ll put my tongue wherever I’d like and don’t even get me started on where he can put his tongue…”

Arya cut her off, “I will kill you myself.” Dany smiled at her and rested her hand on her stomach.

Both women looked up when the door to the hall opened. A little slip of a girl with furs draped across her shoulders and a fierce look on her face walked in. “I hear my king has returned from the South and that he’s brought dragons and soldiers and a future wife with him,” she stated loudly, looking to Jon.

“Arya, who’s that little girl?” Dany asked with an eyebrow raised. She was a bold little thing.

“I wouldn’t let her hear you calling her a little girl,” Arya smirked. “That is Lady Lyanna Mormont of Bear Island.”

“Ser Jorah’s family?” Dany asked.

“Yes, his cousin. She’s the one who named Jon King in the North,” Arya continued. “Shouted down a bunch of craven Northern Lords to do it. She’s been one of his most steadfast supporters. And, though I’d deny it if you ever said a thing, I think she’s a bit soft on him. I’d watch out if I were you.”

“You think this child is going to steal Jon away from me?” Dany deadpanned.

Arya laughed, “No, but I think she’s going to give you a hell of a time proving your worth.”

Dany looked over at where the girl was talking to Jon, Ser Davos, Lord Tyrion, and Sansa. They appeared to be showing her the fortification plans. As if she felt Dany’s eyes on her, Lady Mormont looked up from the drawings and made eye contact with her across the room. She said something to Jon and the two of them began to walk over. Sansa followed quietly behind.

“Oh, this is going to be good,” Arya whispered beside her. Dany shot her a quick glare and turned back as the group approached.

“Lady Lyanna Mormont of Bear Island, may I introduce you to Queen Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, the rightful queen of the Seven Kingdoms and my betrothed,” Jon said with a heated smile. She returned it. “Daenerys, this is Lady Lyanna. She’s one of House Stark’s most loyal supporters. Before she had to travel back to Bear Island, she’d been leading the training of the young girls with Lady Brienne and Arya.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, my lady,” Dany said, pulling her eyes from Jon to meet Lady Mormont’s, and politely extending her hand. “Lady Arya just told me that it was you who first named Jon king. I must agree it was a fine choice.”

Lyanna looked Dany up and down before reaching for her hand. She squeezed it firmly once before dropping it. “The Mad King’s daughter, eh?” She began.

Jon opened his mouth immediately, “Lady Lyanna...”

The girl cut him off, “I know you’re about to defend your future wife, my king. I’d expect nothing less. But I meant no offense. Her father was mad, was he not?” She lifted an eyebrow and looked out of the corner of her eye at Jon.

“My father was a cruel and horrible man. He earned his name. But I hope, like your king before you, you won’t judge a daughter by the actions of her father,” Dany replied with iron in her voice. Arya smiled. Jon still looked incredibly tense. It was Sansa who stepped forward.

“My lady, Queen Daenerys speaks true. She’s been nothing but an ally to the North since meeting my brother. We have all the dragonglass we could ever hope to use thanks to her. She’s suspended her war with Cersei to help us defeat the dead. Marched all her forces up here to do it. She lost a dragon saving my brother’s life.” This caught Lady Mormont’s attention.

“What is this?” She turned to Jon. “She saved your life?” He looked at Dany briefly, knowing how painful this story was for her. Her hand sought her stomach unconsciously.

“Yes, my lady,” he began. “I led a raid beyond the wall to capture a wight to bring to Cersei. We were overcome by the army of the dead. There was no way we were going to make it back. I’d sent a man in my party to bring word to Daenerys that we needed help. I thought she’d send a search party at most. I wasn’t expecting her to rain fire from the skies atop her dragons. The Night King took one down with a spear. Daenerys and her remaining dragons made sure we got home safely.” He left out that he didn’t make it back with them nor almost at all. She saw him falling through the ice and shut her eyes at the image. When she opened them, Lady Mormont was staring at her with her own narrowed.

“They call you the Dragon Queen,” she spoke slowly. “Say that the dragons are your children.” The hand resting on Dany’s stomach flexed. “You lost one of those dragons saving my king.”

“I did.”

“Hmm.” She turned to Jon. “What happens when you marry?”

He looked confused at the question. “What do you mean, my lady?”

“When we win this war, and the inevitable one to follow for that stupid iron chair, what happens? Where do you go? Who rules in the North?” She pressed. Jon furrowed his brows. They’d been toiling with this question themselves. For the longest time, Dany was singularly focused. She wanted to win the Iron Throne and rule over Westeros from King’s Landing. But that was before. Before she met Jon Snow. Before he brought her north. Before she met Arya and Sansa. Before Winterfell became the only place to feel like home since the house with the red door.

But Jon was home. Wherever she was, if she was with him, it would be home. They had to go to King’s Landing. They both knew it. But leaving Sansa and Arya behind would not be easy. And she wanted their child to be born at Winterfell. So they’d go South, but not right away. As the news of her pregnancy was not yet common knowledge, Jon gave her a version of the truth.

“I’ll go south with the Queen. We’ll rule over Westeros from King’s Landing. Daenerys has decided to name Sansa Wardeness of the North,” he shot Sansa a smile while he said the last part. She returned it. “The North will enjoy the same freedoms it did when my father was Warden of the North.”

Lady Mormont nodded. It looked like the idea of a woman leading the North pleased her. She locked eyes with Dany again for a beat before turning back to Jon. “Will you be legitimized? What name will your children bear? Stark? Or Targaryen?”

Jon looked taken aback at the question, “My lady, the Queen and I will decide that in due course.”

“Well, by the looks of it, you only have a few more moon turns left to make the decision.” Sansa gasped. Jon and Arya’s jaws dropped in synchronicity.

“Excuse me?” Jon gathered his wits and asked.

“I’m no fool. I know the Queen is pregnant. She hasn’t taken her hand off her stomach for the entirety of this conversation.” Dany rapidly removing her hand from its place of rest on her stomach was as good as a confession. “Plus the looks you two exchanged upon our introduction made it rather obvious this isn’t a purely political match.” At this Arya chuckled in spite of herself.

“So I’ll ask again, will your baby, the heir apparent to the Iron Throne, be a Stark or a Targaryen?” She asked. _Bear Island knows no king but the king in the north whose name is Stark._

“My child will be both a Stark and a Targaryen,” Dany stood up in her seat. “You named my betrothed king despite his bastard name. It did not matter to you because  you knew the blood that runs in his veins, you knew the content of his character, and now you interrogate us about our child’s name? A child of the North shall sit on the Iron Throne one day and a Northman will even sooner. That is enough for you. I’ll name my child Snow and it will be none of your concern.” Dany breathed heavily. Jon was smiling at her, not even trying to hide his admiration. Even more surprisingly, Lady Mormont was smiling as well. It was faint, but it was there.

“Her Grace speaks true. I’ve forgotten myself. It is not the name that makes a king…or a queen. Bear Island is proud to serve Houses Stark and Targaryen and all children of their issue.” She paused. “It will do the realm good to have a fierce woman leading it,” She finished, a firm look on her face.

“I agree, Lady Mormont,” Jon joined, a soft smile playing on his lips. Arya turned to Lady Mormont.

“I was about to join Brienne for a morning spar. Would you like to join us?” she asked the small girl.

“I would.” She looked at Dany. “It’s been an honor to meet you. My king has found himself a proper queen. I look forward to the wedding. My king. Lady Sansa.” The two nodded in turn and Lady Mormont and Arya took their leave.

“I’ve got to check in on the seamstresses. With the arrival of your forces nearing, I’ve had them working on warm cloaks for the Unsullied and Dothraki day and night. Hopefully they’re nearly done,” Sansa spoke. She leaned over and kissed Dany on the cheek. “Winning over the rest of the Northern lords will be painless,” she whispered. She nodded at Jon and slipped from the room.

Jon walked around the table and took Arya’s seat. “You ate all your bacon this morning,” he smiled triumphantly.

“The bacon is gone.” She smirked.

He lost a bit of his smile. “He haven’t talked about it you know.” At her confused look, he clarified, “My name. The baby’s name.”

She brought her hand to his face and cupped his cheek gently. “Jon, you don’t have to make up your mind any time soon. It is all still new. Don’t think you have to decide who you want to be for us.” She placed her other hand on her stomach. “I meant what I said. Targaryen, Snow, Stark. It doesn’t matter to me. Decide for you.” He turned his head and kissed her palm. He took a deep breath and looked away from her.

“All my life I wanted to be Jon Stark. And now I can’t imagine being anyone other than Jon Snow.” He paused and smiled at her. “Grey Worm told me why he kept his name. That it was a lucky name. The name he had when he met Daenerys Targaryen. I understand the sentiment. Jon Snow met Daenerys Targaryen. I can’t imagine what his life would be like if he hadn’t. It’s a lucky name for me as well.” She leaned forward and kissed him softly. He rested his forehead on hers and kept his eyes shut. After a beat he spoke again. “It’s all I have from her,” he started slowly. “The only thing she gave me before she died was my name.” Dany understood who he was speaking about. _His name is Aegon Targaryen. You have to protect him, Ned. Promise me, Ned._

He continued, “I’d like for our children to be Targaryens. I’d like to be crowned as Aegon Targaryen. I won’t stop being Jon Snow, but I think the realm should know me by my given name. The name my mother gave me." He paused. "That’s a ways off though. That won’t matter until the wars with the Dead and for the Iron Throne are over. It gives me time. It gives me time to figure out how to tell the North—hells, all the Seven Kingdoms—that Robert’s Rebellion was a lie and that Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark’s trueborn son is the man they named king in the north. Ned Stark’s bastard son was a hidden Targaryen prince.” He laughed. “Gods, no one is going to believe it. If Bran hadn’t told me, I wouldn’t have believe it myself.”

“It’s not so unbelievable,” she spoke softly. He closed his eyes and kissed her again. Deeper this time.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you for giving me time. For helping me through this. Gods, I’d be half-mad if you let me deal with it all alone like I was wont to do. I love you, Dany. You have given me…everything.” His hand went to rest on her stomach. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“There is nothing to thank me for. It is you who have given me everything. Love, a home, a family, a baby. I love you, Jon. I was always meant to love you." She smiled at him and looked into his eyes. "When I was across the Narrow Sea, just a girl running for her life with a cruel brother, I used to fantasize about what life would be like if Rhaegar had won. I was sure I’d marry his son. We would have been closer in age than I was with Viserys, and it was the Targaryen way. Life has a funny way of working out. It is not so unbelievable to me,” she finished with a kiss.

“Aye,” he agreed and leaned in to kiss her again. They carried on for a bit before hearing someone clear their throat. Separating but not the least bit shamed, they turned and saw Sansa standing there. There was a subtle flush across her cheeks. While Arya was more vocal in her reactions to Jon and Dany’s displays of affection, it was Sansa who was more discomforted by them. Dany’s heart broke when she thought about why that was.

“Pardon my interruption, but Dany, I was wondering if we could talk privately? Perhaps over tea and lemon cakes in your solar?” Sansa asked. She sounded nervous. Jon was clearly confused by her trepidation. Dany patted his thigh comfortingly and smiled at Sansa.

“Of course, Sansa. Shall we?” She dropped a quick kiss on Jon’s forehead and made to exit with Sansa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what this is anymore. Multi-chapter? Collection of related one-shots? Who knows! Hope you enjoy!


	4. A Discussion Over Lemon Cakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa and Dany talk about trauma they've both endured. Warning: brief discussion of sexual assault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wouldn't let you wait too long for Dany and Sansa's conversation! It'll probably be a couple of weeks before I can write anything more for this story. I have a big exam coming up, but the long awaited dragon ride is next!

Dany leaned back in her chair watching with amusement as Sansa fluttered about the room nervously. She was rearranging trays and pouring cups of tea all seemingly to stall time while she gathered the courage to finally begin their conversation. _Whatever it is she wants to speak with me about she’s unusually nervous,_ Dany thought growing concerned.

Since she’d arrived at Winterfell, she’d grown closer to the Stark sisters than she’d ever dared hope. Many of intimate conversations Jon and Dany had held across their pillows on the boat ride to White Harbor revolved around Dany’s anxiety about meeting Jon’s family. He clearly loved them above all else and she wanted desperately for them to like her. She’d never really felt the need to impress anyone before. Her name, her looks, her armies, her dragons. They’d always ensured that people were impressed by her with little effort. But she wanted the Starks to like _her._ More than that, her most desperate desire was that they’d want to be her family. She’d confided as much in Jon from the safety of their bed. He’d promised her they would.

Jon Snow kept his promises. The bonds she’d forged with Arya and Sansa in such a short time filled a hole in her heart she hadn’t known existed. They’d shared deep truths with each other, secrets, fears, desires. They were her sisters in all but name already. So Dany was concerned that there appeared to be something Sansa did not feel comfortable discussing with her.

“Sansa, please, come sit down,” Dany said gently. Sansa stopped stacking lemon cakes abruptly and sat in the chair across from Dany. “What is it you wanted to talk about?”

Sansa took a deep breath. “I wanted to talk to you about…the thing is…Ser Davos mentioned…” Sansa kept stopping and starting. Dany nodded at her encouragingly. “You were married before Jon,” Sansa finally decided on. Again, Dany nodded. “How did you…” She paused again. She closed her eyes and took another deep breath. Dany reached across the table and grabbed her hand, squeezing it with her own. That seemed to bring her a little comfort. “You and Jon are always kissing. Touching each other when you’re in the same room. I mean, you’re pregnant. You’re clearly intimate. You _clearly_ enjoy it.” She was speaking quickly now. “But I heard…Ser Davos told us what you said when you met Jon, the speech you gave them on Dragonstone. You said…you said you’d been raped. I guess what I’m asking…what I want to know is…how did you come to enjoy being intimate with someone after being…after being raped?” She finished heavily.

Dany’s heart broke. She and Sansa had never talked about her marriage to Ramsey Bolton. Jon had told her what little he knew. That alone was enough to make her wish she’d been able to watch his hounds tear him to shreds.

“I can’t begin to know what you went through during your marriage, Sansa,” Dany began. “You survived unspeakable horrors. You carry the weight of it in your bones, but your spine is steel and that carries weight too. You are stronger.” She paused. “But what you experienced in the marriage bed that wasn’t being intimate with someone. That wasn’t sex. You haven’t gotten the chance to know that yet. It’s not about pain or horror or humiliation. With the right person, it will be fantastic. It will be a way to express your love for someone else. To be as close to them as two people can be. And it’ll just feel damn good.” Sansa smiled just a little.

“It was different for me. I grew to love my husband. Or at least I thought I did. Now, after Jon, I know what I felt for him wasn’t love. But at the very least, I stopped dreading the act itself. I learned to take control in the bedroom. It made me feel safe. That made me able to enjoy it. With Jon, I always feel safe. There are some things I don’t like to do because of my experience with my first husband, but Jon and I have talked about it. He knows what scares me, what will bring up those painful memories. He’s generous and kind and lets me take control when I need to. He…” Dany realized this might be heading into territory she didn’t need to cover with Sansa.

“I guess what I’m saying, however ineloquently, is that because of my experience I _need_ to feel safe in the bedroom at all times, and I feel safe when I’m in control and when I’m with someone with whom I can communicate my needs,” Dany finished. “Does that help at all?”

Sansa sat for a minute. Clearly thinking it over and trying to understand how she felt. “It does. I wish I had a Jon.” She made a face as if realizing what she’d said. “Oh gross, definitely not Jon, but someone like who he is to you. Someone who made me want to try again. Someone to make new memories with. I wish I…I wish I had more than painful memories of an act that so many people think of with such joy,” Sansa’s eyes glistened with tears she would not shed.

Dany squeezed her hand again. “I wish that for you as well, Sansa.” A beat. “May I, is there a reason you asked? You say you don’t have someone who makes you want to try again. Are you thinking of being intimate with someone…?”

“Well, I am to be made Wardeness of the North. I know with the title comes the responsibility of a marriage. One you and Jon will arrange,” Sansa was speaking in the clipped tones she used when taking care of unpleasant business in her role as Lady of Winterfell.

Dany’s eyes widened in horror and she leaned forward in her chair, pulling on Sansa’s hand still grasped in her own. “No, Sansa,” she stated firmly. “You will be our Wardeness with or without a husband. We would never force you to marry. Never. Jon will not arrange your marriage. Yours or Arya’s or Bran’s. If and when you decided to marry, the decision—and the person—will be entirely your own.”

Sansa finally began to cry. “Really?” She asked with a soft voice. “I just assumed. To secure an heir for the North I’d have to…”

“No,” Dany proclaimed again. “You are not a broodmare. The decision to have children is your own. If you don’t, you can name your heir in another way. Gods be good, Jon and I will have many children. You can foster a prince or princess in the North. Or Arya’s children. Or Bran’s. Please, dear sister, don’t let that weigh on your mind another second.” She smiled at her. “I wish for you all the joy I have in my life. A man who loves you. A positive relationship with sex. And the promise of children. But I will never force them upon you. And neither would Jon. You don’t have to worry about that.”

Sansa jumped from her seat and ran to the other side of the table. She wrapped Dany up in her arms and sobbed into her neck. “Thank you, Daenerys. The gods blessed this family when they sent Jon to find you. I am so thankful to have you as my queen. And even more thankful to have you as my sister.”

“Oh, Sansa. You are the blessing. You and your family.” The women held the embrace for several minutes until they heard a voice from the doorway.

“I don’t understand what I’m looking at,” Arya stated slowly. Sansa and Dany pulled apart to look at her with tearstained faces and puffy eyes. Arya looked rattled. “What’s happened? What’s wrong? Is Jon okay? The baby?” Arya rushed forward. Dany had never seen her out of control. They must have looked a fright.

“Everyone’s fine, Arya,” Dany was quick to quell her fears while Sansa wiped her face and sat back down at the table. “Sansa and I were just having a little talk amongst ladies. The kind you don’t enjoy.” Arya’s eyes narrowed. She was trying to figure out what they could have been talking about that she wouldn’t have enjoyed that would also make them both cry.

“Oh, gross. Were you talking about sex?” The sisters were more alike than they cared to admit. She turned to Sansa. “Sansa, you do know the person she has sex with is our brother. Why would you ask questions? Spend five minutes with the two of them and you’ll have all the information you need. You’ll likely get a live show.” Sansa began to laugh.

With a smile still on her face, she turned to her sister, “You know Jon won’t arrange marriages for us. He won’t force us to marry.” It appeared important to her that Arya not share her fears.

Arya, of course, was unconcerned about this possibility. She laughed loudly, “I would like to have seen Jon try and arrange a match for me. I’d burn all Seven Kingdoms to the ground before I let Jon or anyone force me to kneel before a Weirwood tree. They’d write songs about Arya’s Rebellion.”

“Okay, little kingslayer, there’s no need for bloodlust. No one will be forcing any Stark woman into a marriage she doesn’t want. I think history has shown us to try invites disaster,” Dany reminded.

“I’ll hold off on my plans to seize the throne then,” Arya smiled. “That is unless you back out of your promise to let me ride a dragon. I still haven’t even met them and you’ve been here almost two moon turns.” Sansa brought her hands together and smiled.

“Oh, I’d like to see them too. I don’t think I’ll get close enough for a ride, but the way everyone talks about them, they must be magnificent to behold,” Sansa exclaimed. She began eating the lemon cakes that had been left forgotten during their discussion.

“Let’s give the lady a moment to shove all those lemon cakes down her throat then let’s go see the dragons.” Arya smiled.


End file.
